


I Will Be Back One Day

by Mister Bates (Panikeet)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, FTM Reader, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Foreshadowing, Kill m e lmfao, M/M, Maybe if you werent so selfish things wouldnt have gone to shit, Multi, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader is a fuckin traitor, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Trartist, and an artist, reader is trans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 00:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panikeet/pseuds/Mister%20Bates
Summary: It's a beautiful thing when an artist finds their muse.





	1. Chapter 1

You gazed out into the scene in front of you. The water was a clean sheet of silver foil, wrinkled along the ebony pebble shoreline. The trees uncasing the little lagoon where you were currently standing barefoot in were a charcoal black, and the overcast sky made the world appear to be in greyscale. You moved your toes, which barely could feel the smooth black stones dig into the bare undersides of your feet as your shaky hands lifted your shirt from your body.

You tugged down your shorts and let them fall to the small beads that made up the ground. You put your hands on the waistband of your underwear and trailed up to your binder. No. If you were doing this, you'd do it with dignity. You sighed and walked over to the box beside you and opened it, sighing as you looked upon its contents. Every painting you were ever proud of, here sitting in this chest, ready to be dumped out into the tides, gone forever. You picked one up, a canvas covered in acrylic paints depicting a moonrise.

You traced your fingers over it and expected tears to pitter against the caked canvas, or sadness to overwhelm you, but you felt next to nothing as you carried it towards the lapping shore and waded in up to just above your knees. You began to feel a little more sure of what you were doing, and less sympathetic of whoever has the misfortune of finding you. In fact, it seemed to be a smar choice, anyways; the less heat there was, the quicker this would work.

You waded past your hips, old painting under your arm, and began to tug at the clasps in your binder when you heard loud voices approach through the thicket. You panicked and dove beneath the water, abandoning your painting to float back to shore as you held your breathe below. Whoever this was, they'd probably call the police, and then the hospital, if they found you. Or perhaps, you'd freeze and drown at this very moment as you held yourself down in the frigid silver void. Thats's what you came here for, wasn't it? So just calm down, close your eyes. Yes, that's it. Fall asleep... Don't wake up.

The world went dark and fuzzy, and for a moment you saw a glimpse of someone above you, perhaps an angel... Before everything went black. You didn't think of anything... _But it did occur to you, all at once,  that all of your promlems were fixable._ When you came to, you were sputtering and coughing, and your entire body burned, especially your almost frost bitten fingers and toes felt as if they were on fire.

"hey, kid, it's okay, breathe." A deep, slightly accepted voice set fear in your mind. You weren't alone. You were warm. That must mean you were in someone's place and- Oh, this was mortifying. With shurt eyes, you took deep wheezing breaths and nodded to acknowledge that you heard him, whoever "he" may be. You felt a bony hand wipe the plastered hair from your face and lift you up a bit, stuffing more pillows underneath you. You cleared your throat and hoarsely tried to utter a thank you, but were immediately sent into a fit of coughing.

"hey now, don't talk just yet, buddy." He said and you nodded, breathing deeply and gagging after every other breath. You turned over and fell into a deep sleep.

 

He didn't know who the human now passed out cold again on his couch was, but he had a feeling things between them were going to be interesting


	2. Ghost On The Shore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems like luck is on your side.  
> Maybe it's the universe's way of apologizing.

When you finally opened your eyes, you felt pleasantly warm and well rested if not abit achy. You shufted, feeling heavy as hell on you couch cushions, due both to the tiredness in your limbs and the mountain of blankets piled on top of you. You pushed the comforters and sheets off you, all of them peeling in a single layer like a cocoon, setting you free to stand up, wobbly as a newborn deer. Pins and needles tingled in your feet and you flailed your arms to keep from teetering to the side and falling off them.  
  
When you had established your balance, you started forward, taking in the sight of the house. The walls were painted yellow with white trim, and many framed pictures were hung up against them. You noted the medium sized flatscreen, coffee tables with magazines under the surface, and the window next to the couch. It was night time outside and as you walked up to the clear glass and parted the thin white curtains, you discovered that you could clearly see Mount Ebott. You wondered if the man who took you in was a monster.  
  
"Hello?" You called, albeit rather quietly. "Is anybody home?" You walked forward and into a doorless entrance to another area of the house. The refridgerator, sink, and table immediately told you that the baby blue room was a kitchen. You jumped when you saw the person hunched over the kitchen table. He was, indeed, a monster. A skeleton looking monster, not at all that intimidating looking, if not a tad bit morbid. He wore ahoodie and other very casual articles of clothing, and was sleeping in the chair, draping his upper body onto the table.  
  
You frowned. You didn't want to wake him, he seemed exhausted, if his deep breathing and occaisional soft grunts were anything to go by. But you figured that he would want to know if the stranger he had rescued from drowning was awake. You tapped him gently on the back and waited a bit before softly giving him a nudge and a prod. He began to stir, and pushed himself up groggily with a yawn and a stretch.  
  
"oh, heya, you're awake." He said and rolled his shoulders. "how are you feeling?"  
  
"I'm alright, now." You replied.  
  
"hey 'alright', i'm sans." He pointed two finger guns at you and winked. You smiled.  
  
"Thanks so much for the hospitality, Sans. I can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate it." You told him honestly, the respect deeply set in your voice making the skeleton's cheekbones tint a light blue.  
  
"my pleasure, pal. i- heh- didn't want you to be chilled... to the bone." You chuckled dryly. You weren't quite in the mood for a pun about your near death expirience. It was strange for you, being the kind of person to cover up pain with humor, so you assumed it was because Sans was a relative stranger that his joke struck a nerve. You didn't think your face said anything to let him onto it, but somehow he seemed to catch your displeasure. He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair.  
  
"eh, sorry." He said sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck vertabrae. You looked at him, a patient smile on your lips.  
  
"No it's fine. I really appreciate what you did for me it... it means a ton." You returned the finger guns and wink. "A skele-ton." Sans seemed to light up, his grimace turning back into a genuine grin and he gave a hearty laugh.  
  
"eyy, good one!" He congradulated. "say uh, you're probably starving so why don't i warm you up something?"  
  
"That would be fantastic," You just then noticed that your stomach ached with emptiness. "I'll take anything you put on my plate."  
  
"burgers it is then. want fries?" You answered with a quiet 'yes please' and anod as he popped the contents into the microwave.  
  
"so uh," Sans started as he pushed an array of buttons that all let out high pitched beeps upon contact. "never got your name. tell me about yourself, kiddo."  
  
"Well, uh, I guess.to start, my name is (Y/n), and I'm an artist from right here in Ebott."  
  
"what kind of art?"  
  
"Mostly anything having to do with traditional art. Pens, pencils, paint and paper... I do digital drawing sometimes too.Other than that I sing, mix music, dance..."  
  
"you're real talented, you know that?"  
  
"Ha, never said I was good at any of that, just that I do 'em. But thank you, Sans. It means a lot. But man, if you saw one of my paintings I don't think you'd think the same way."  
  
"oh, i have."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"i brought your box in too. you're gifted. not a lot of people can make something like that. you should really think about that next time you feel like turning in."  
  
You froze. The microwave beeped and his gaze, which was fixed to you dropped innocently as he turned towards rhw machine to lift a plate to the table.  
  
"look, (y/n)," He said solemnly. "i'm no therapist. hell, i need one myself, but i know what its like to take a fall... first step to getting back up is talkin' about it." You looked utterly shocked at Sans. Were all monsters so kind?  
  
"I... I..." Nothing about Sans said 'pressure', but you couldn't help but feel like you just couldn't say no. "...Things haven't been going well for me. Stuff between me and my parents has been a real disaster and lately I was, well... hanging with the wrong crowd for a while, because I thought if I stuck around people my _parents_ liked, it would make them like me again." You recounted all the mistakes you made. The sinking feeling of hopelessness was threatening to creep back into view, but you were too far in your tale to stop yourself.

"But they were so mean and... And nasty... And I had nobody to turn to and after rejectiom from friends and family and being isolated for so long, I got sick of myself. I don't have any money, a-and no home anymore... Just my stupid paintings a-and... and... Yeah. End scene, roll credits." You sighed and took a fry into your mouth, chewing and swallowing before meekly looking back up at Sans.  
  
You had never seen a person look so concerned in your lifetime.  
  
Especially not someone you just met.  
  
But the care and sympathy on his face was unmistakable, and nearly indescribable. He reached across the table and gently took your hand. You flinched, but squeezed back.  
  
"you seem like a real champ, (y/n), and i wanna do what i can to help you. you said you got nowhere to go?"


End file.
